


Rarepair Snippets

by B_Frizzy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Acespec Characters, Canon-Typical Drinking, Pride, Questioning Sexuality, Rare Pairings, rarepairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-14 20:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Frizzy/pseuds/B_Frizzy
Summary: A series of G-rated rare pair drabblesPairings and tags will be updated as chapters are added





	1. Lamilla

Lardo knew that the team thought her and Shitty were together. They weren’t. She didn’t bother correcting them, because she didn’t know what to say when she corrected people. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was.

For a while, Lardo thought she was nothing. She had never been attracted to anyone, sexually or romantically. Or at least, she didn’t think she had been, but if she was pushed to explain the difference between romantic and platonic feelings, she wouldn’t have been able to say.

She was mostly okay with it, most of the time. It meant that while everyone else was distracted by relationship drama and pining (Bitty) or their latest hookup (Ransom, Holster), she could just focus on her art, on managing the team, on everything else in life.

Most of the time. She still had moments (and days, and weeks) when she got stuck in a loop of “I’m abnormal,” “I’m wrong,” “why can’t I figure this out,” and “I’m broken.” There were times when she thought she felt flashes of attraction, but she had nothing to compare it to. There was no way to know if that’s what it was, or if she was misinterpreting her feelings, or if it was just wishful thinking.

The first time she felt… whatever it was, it took her by surprise. It was in the middle of everything, in the middle of a kegster, in the middle of a beer pong game. She was losing, to a very determined, very drunk Camilla. Something in her center clenched and unclenched, sort of like the affection she felt when she cuddled with Jack and Shitty, but sort of not. 

It passed quickly, and didn’t happen again for months, so she didn’t stress herself by trying to figure it out. But then it did happen again, with the history major in her life drawing class. And the new manager to the club soccer team. And a tall, dark skinned stranger in the quad. A handful of times over her years at Samwell, but there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or rhythm to it.

Except that it seemed to happen more and more often with Camilla.

Whenever she saw Camilla on campus, looking put together, with an air of confidence wrapped around her. Whenever Lardo saw her in Founders late at night, slightly disheveled and without any makeup on. When Camilla was at the Haus for kegsters, at the games to support Jack (even after their breakup), in their shared French class.

It was years before she let herself believe that what she was feeling was actually something. She wasn’t sure what it was, or what it meant she was, or how she felt about feeling a way about someone, but she could finally say it was something.

Lardo didn’t admit it to anyone else until the middle of her junior year, late one night when she was smoking with Shitty and Nursey. They threw a lot of words her way, acespec and demiromantic and grey ace, and she woke up the next morning a little more settled in herself. She always listened to Shitty’s rants about not needing labels, about your orientation being valid either way, but there was something about having words to describe what she was feeling, or wasn’t feeling, that comforted her.

The next kegster, with a few cups of tubjuice to help her along, Lardo found herself sitting next to Camilla on the back porch. She didn’t know what to say, but in the end, she didn’t have to say anything at all. Camilla looked at her, smiled, and reached out to take her hand.

Lardo looked at where their fingers were tangled together between them. There were still thick lines of sharpie across the back of her own hand, and paint caked around her nails. Camilla’s fingers looked long and graceful; her carefully applied nail polish complimented her fuzzy burgundy sweater with an ease that Lardo would never accomplish, but always appreciate.

The words would come, in time, but until then, just this was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chowder/Tango!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this was just a little throw-away pairing at first, and then somehow I was head-over-heels in love with them. I really, really want you to love them, too

Adjusting to college was tough for Tango. Yeah, tough was a good word for it. Being in a new environment was hard enough, without the more intense commitment to hockey. And the people… well, people were always difficult. Or, more accurately, Tango was always too difficult to handle for people; it didn’t matter if he was back home in Texas or surrounded by strangers in Massachusetts.

Tango expected that it would take time for everyone around him to get used to his eccentricities. That is, if they did at all. He understood that his personality was one that took adjusting to. There were several members of old hockey team who spent four years doing their best to avoid Tango.

What Tango didn’t expect at Samwell was to find someone who would stand by him, and help him, unconditionally.

Chowder was like nobody Tango had ever met. He was kind. He was so smart. He was invested and intense about hockey when he was on the ice, but never forgot that playing could be about fun. And, the best thing in Tango’s opinion, Chowder was unbelievably patient.

Tango had a notebook where he wrote down all the questions he thought of during the day. Every night, he would set up his laptop and search for the answers to the ones he could find online. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but ask in the moment, especially clarification about things he knew were specific to Samwell or to the hockey team, like frogs versus tadpoles, and the Haus bylaws. But a lot still went unanswered, so he had to find the answers on his own.

He never brought it up to the team, because they already seemed exasperated with all his question asking. He didn’t think they would react positively to him pulling out a notebook full of questions. The system worked for a while, until Chowder noticed him sitting intently in front of his laptop after a game, googling things that had come up during the roadie.

“You’re not tired, Tango?”

He glanced over to the goalie, who was stretched out on the uncomfortable motel bed. The room assignments had changed again for this roadie; Lardo tried to be polite about it, but Tango knew it was because Bitty and then Nursey and then Dex had all requested not to room with him. Chowder was the only one who didn’t seem to tire of Tango.

“Oh, um. Just looking some things up.” Tango held up his small, beat up notebook. The list was actually shorter than usual, but there were a half a dozen items and he didn’t want to leave them until tomorrow, even if it had been a long day. It would mess up his routine.

Apparently taking it as an invitation, Chowder clambered off his bed and climbed up next to Tango to look at the battered pages. He read through it intently, bumping shoulders with Tango. With a hum, he started going down each item, clarifying the reference to “lemonade” Bitty made in the locker room had been about the album and not the drink, explaining that Mandy and Jenny were the ghosts Ransom believed lived in the Haus, and why Holster had made a comment about UST when Nursey and Dex were wrestling in the locker room.

It became his new routine. They started rooming together on roadies. When they were on campus, some nights, Chowder would text Tango and ask him what questions he had about his day. Other nights, Tango would sit in Chowder’s room in the Haus, next to him on the teal bedspread. On those nights, they ended up talking a little bit longer, about whatever was on his mind.

The amount of questions he had seemed to dwindle as time went on. He couldn’t figure it out at first, why he had less and less questions, until during a team meal, he noticed Chowder interjecting small explanations about things he knew Tango wouldn’t completely understand.

The next day, when Tango sat next to a pajama-clad Chowder on his bed, he only had one question written down in his notebook. It had taken over his head so thoroughly; he had been so distracted by the thought that he couldn’t pay attention to anything else.

How do I know if I’m romantically attracted to someone?

He handed it to the goalie without comment. For a long minute, Chowder stared the cramped handwriting, a serious expression on his face. It looked like the same expression he had on the ice, completely focused.

He looked back up at Tango. His intense focus had transitioned into something else entirely, an awkward combination an anxious of furrowed brow and a happy uptick at the corner of his mouth. He chewing on his lip, a nervous habit that he knew Chowder tried his best to hide.

“Well, um, you want to spend time with that person, and they’re the first person you think of when something good or bad or stressful happens during the day, and, uh. You get little butterflies in your chest at the thought of holding their hand.”

Tango nodded. He took a deep breath and put his hand, palm up, between them on the bed. Chowder’s smile was brilliant as he reached out and threaded his fingers through Tangos.

Tango had never spent so much time with anyone as he did with Chowder. And he didn’t just think of Chowder first, he texted him regularly as the day went on. And there were definitely butterflies.


	3. bittyholtz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the post where Holster gets mistaken for Bitty's father

Dating, for Bitty, was a totally new experience. He was used to hiding who he was, locking that part of himself away from the rest of the world. And it just so happened that his boyfriend didn’t even know the definition of the word “reserved”. 

Holster was incredibly understanding about Bitty’s apprehensions. He never pushed Bitty about being more open, he never questioned that sometimes Bitty couldn’t hold his hand in public, and he only ever supported his boyfriend in every way. 

Bitty never wanted Holster to go back in the closet for him; hell, Bitty never wanted to go back in the closet, either. But even if they weren’t doing more than holding hands in or the occasional peck in public, Holster was a big guy who drew a lot of attention. On top of that, they were an odd sight together, with their size difference. People looked at them. It wasn’t the same sort of staring people did in Georgia, it was almost never ill intended, but it was hard for Bitty to process that.

So, he didn’t want to be back in the closet, but sometimes it felt hard being out.

Bitty knew it was a lot to ask of Holster, being less in public. Less out, less open, just less. Holster was an incredibly affectionate guy, and they could cuddle on the couch or dance in the attic until they couldn’t stand it anymore, but it wasn’t the same as showing people, showing everyone, how much he loved Holster.

So, taking a page out of Jack’s book, Bitty decided that a grand, sweeping gesture was the way to go. It took several weeks to plan, but the closer it got to the day, the more excited and less nervous he felt.

The first step meant calling in favors from Lardo and Jack. Lardo was easy enough; she acted like it was a huge bother, but bitty knew she was looking for any distraction from her classwork. Jack was a bit harder, and involved a lot of bribes to Tater (and one hell of an embarrassing conversation). In the end, though, Jack agreed not only to let Bitty and Holster to stay in his apartment for the night, but also agreed to stay with his own boyfriend, so they had the place to themselves.

Bitty knew that Holster didn’t buy his excuse about wanting to take a trip to Providence to see a new William Sonoma, especially since Bitty made him change his shorts three times before the left the Haus. But bless his big heart, Holster didn’t question it. He just followed Bitty to Cait’s borrowed Honda (another favor he called in), and drove them to Providence.

In the passenger seat, Bitty’s leg was bouncing out of control. Katy Perry was blasting through the speakers and Holster’s deep voice was matching the volume with ease. Bitty felt a rush of affection for him. Everywhere Bitty was anxious, Holster had an easiness and a confidence about him. It made Bitty feel glad that he decided to take the effort to show Holster just how much he meant to Bitty, even if it made him nervous.

Once they got into the city, Bitty directed his boyfriend to Jack’s apartment. Holster raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment as they made their way up in the elevator. The short-lived disaster that was Jack and Bitty’s relationship wasn’t something they ever talked about.

Bitty pulled out the spare key that Jack had given him and let them into the apartment. He dumped his bag on the couch and turned to face Holster. All of the nerves came back tenfold. 

“So, I wanted to, uh. I want you to know how much I love you and how much better my life has gotten because of you. And I know I don’t say it often…”

He couldn’t figure out the words that he wanted to say. Instead, Bitty turned on his heel to rustle through the bag he had thrown down in haste. Of course, he hadn’t been thinking when he packed it, and had to dig through his pajamas and changes of clothes before he pulled out the shirts that Lardo had made.

He held one out to Holster, displaying the pink, yellow, and baby blue tank top. His own was a mess of rainbow colors, with a soft purple, grey, and white heart over the pocket. 

“I know you want more… just more, and it’s hard for me to give that to you sometimes. But i want you to know that I really do love you and I want to show you that, so I arranged all this.”

Holster had a sunny smile on his face. “And what is all this, exactly?” 

“Uh… Pride. It’s the parade today. I thought I’d feel better about being out surrounded by support. Oh lord, it sounds silly when I say it out loud.”

Holster pulled Bitty into a tight hug, the shirts crushed between them. It was warm and wonderful and exactly what Bitty needed to relieve the tension that had built between his shoulder blades. 

“Thank you, babe. But you know you don’t have to do any of this, right?” Bitty could feel the vibrations of Holster’s deep voice in his chest and his breath ruffle the top of his hair. “I know we talked about never going to pride before, but it’s less about being in the closet for me and more about hating people.”

Bitty nodded against his chest. “Let’s try anyway.”

For the first time, the looks that they were getting didn’t make Bitty feel self-conscious. They were just one couple among thousands. People weren’t looking at them because they were out of place. Sure, they still got looks (because Holster was a giant, and Bitty just below average height, thank you very much), but none of them were because they were a gay couple. Bitty even caught one or two people checking out Holster.

They managed to find a good spot next to a wonderful older couple, George and Wilson. They chatted for awhile about how long George and Wilson had been together and about the parade, when Holster mentioned that it was the first Pride for both of them.

George got a misty look in his eyes and Wilson patted his hand.

“It’s so nice to see families supporting each other like you two. I wish I had gotten a chance to celebrate with my baby brother, but…” George trailed off. 

Bitty felt his face morph into something between horror and hysterical. Sure, the team had joked once or twice that they looked related (Bitty refused to acknowledge the one time someone made the comment that Holster looked like Bitty’s dad), but Bitty mostly thought it was chirping. They had never actually been mistaken as related before. 

Next to him, Holster burst out in laughter. He was nearly doubled over with the force of it.

“He’s not… we’re not brothers. We’re a couple,” Bitty managed to sputter out. 

George looked appropriately ashamed, and apologized profusely. By the time Bitty convinced him that it was okay, Holster had straightened back up. He wiped a few tears from the corners of his eyes and wrapped a massive arm around Bitty.

Bitty couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss. He didn’t care that it was in front of strangers, in the middle of a parade, in the middle of a strange city. He wanted to kiss his boyfriend so he did. 

Holster pulled back, still smiling. “As much as I love that you did this for me, why don’t we go make out in inappropriate places in your ex-boyfriend’s apartment instead?”

So, they did exactly that.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr :)  
> vicioushyperbolizer


End file.
